The Brewing of a Storm, The Burning of a Star
by MilliniumLint
Summary: A look a both Jace's and Sebastian's childhoods, starting with Jace's birth and ending with the arrival of Clary.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One Special**

The morgue was so cold, even Eskimos would have complained, yet Valentine didn't even seemed bothered by the temperature. Hodge, on the other hand, was shivering so badly his skin seemed to vibrate, and his cheeks were pink.

"Hurry up!" Valentine snapped tiredly at his partner, "We gotta do this quick, it can't live in her for long." The other man nodded furiously, and picked up his pace.

"That's her, isn't it?" He pointed at the body covered by a thin sheet that didn't even reach her toes. He whipped out a knife and handed it to Hodge.

"Yes sir," Hodge's voice trembled as he spoke, and all he could think was how cold she must be under that sheet, and how of course she is cold, cause she's dead and she's gone and that baby is likely the same.

Valentine didn't even hesitate as he whipped the sheet off of Celine Herondale, leaving her completely naked before the two men. Her skin was pale, ashy, her eyes permanently shut, her hair a dark tangle. She could have been some sick doll but for her stomach, a large round hump that stretched out unnaturally from her otherwise fit body.

Hodge didn't wait for his companion to shout at him, he went right ahead, carefully slicing into her abdomen. He cut through layer after layer silently, holding his breath the entire time.

Finally, he reached in and pulled something out, something tiny and pink.

"I got it!" Hodge shouted proudly, holding the infant out to Valentine. It was crying weakly.

Valentine made no move to take the child.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" He inquired, his face blank and emotionless despite the birth of the baby that he would raise.

"I think it's a boy," He said slowly after glancing at the newborn. "C'mon, take him." Hodge once again tried to hand the little boy over, and this time Valentine took him, and cradled him in his arms gently, with the same care that he would hold Jonathan. He didn't glance at his son, didn't speak to him, just held him as his partner dug into the bag they had brought filled with diapers, clothing, and blankets, as it was pretty cold out.

Suddenly he let out a little noise of disgust.

Hodge frowned. "What's wrong?"

"He shit on me!" He exclaimed in horror and sat the kid down on the floor. Sure enough, there was a small dark stain on his shirt. "The little shit took a shit on me," He muttered in disbelief.

He turned to Hodge, who was smiling like an idiot. "Aww shut up an hand me one of them before the little turd**(no pun intended)** does it again."

He grudgingly obeyed and Valentine had the infant diapered and dressed up in a soft, baby-blue sleeper from Jonathan's earliest days within minutes.

"Let's go," Valentine stood up and grabbed the little bundle.

"But wait!" Hodge hopped up, grabbing the bag and turned to him."What's his name?"

"Jonathan Christopher," He said without even pausing to think.

"But that's-" Hodge blurted out.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, he's just a replacement, nothin' special." Valentine muttered dismissively.

Young Jonathan didn't know that, however. He opened up his little golden brown eyes and his little mouth puckered up into what resembled a smile, despite such an act not normally occurring until later in life. He curled up against his new father's bicep and drifted off to the sound of a his heart beat.

The sun was rising as they took the child, the orphaned child, the replacement, the child with a borrowed name, the child that was

special.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two Dusk**

**I know Sebastian and Jace weren't raised together, but when they were younger they could have been, since Jace would have no memory of it. Plus imagining Valentine attempting to juggle caring for both boys at the same time could be... interesting... muahahah!**

The day Valentine brought Jonathan to live with him and his son was icy cold, with blinding white snow that crunched beneath his boots and he slowly made his way up to Wayland Manor, a place he had claimed as his own after Michael's death.

As soon as door swung open, the two were greeted with a blast of warm air. Jonathan, who has slept soundly the entire way, awoke immediately. His tiny golden brown eyes fluttered open stared up at Valentine curiously.

He stepped indoors gratefully, and glanced around in search of his son, whom he'd been eager to introduce the child to. Jonathan was nowhere in sight, nor were any of the servants that were assigned to care for the children. The only person Valentine could find was one of the cooks, Lindsay.

"Hey, Lindsay!" He shouted, "Where's the kid?"

Lindsay, who was fixing up something for lunch, answered without looking up from what he was doing.

"Upstairs in the nursery. He had a wet diaper, and Josie just took him up to get changed."

He nodded quickly, before Lindsay even finished speaking and walked upstairs without even bothering to thank him. When he entered Jonathan's nursery, after the exhausting walk up the ridiculously long stairs he found, just as the cook had said, both of them. Jonathan was lying on the changing table, his shirt pulled up, his pants pulled down, and clearly enjoying himself as Josephine, one of the nannies, fastened on a clean diaper. He had a lazy, almost smug grin on his face as he was being changed. Most kids screech like wild animals being tortured while being changed, or struggle, but Jonathan never made a peep, he'd just lie there quietly. Sometimes he'd even take a nap on the changing table.

Josephine pulled his pants back up and lifted him up and onto the floor.

"All done," She said cheerfully. "Look, your daddy's home. Wanna go say hi?"

Typically Jonathan paid little attention to his father, or anyone for that matter. He'd never care to greet Valentine, but today was different. He toddled over curiously, his eyes fixated on the tiny bundle in his father's arms.

He silently pointed a small, chubby finger at the baby.

"Whas that?" Jonathan whispered flatly, his dark eyes wide.

"That's the new baby I was telling you about," Valentine explained as he sat down in the rocking chair beside his son's crib. "Remember? This is the brother I said I'd be bringing home."

Jonathan smiled and held fat little hands out. "Can I?" And before Valentine could stop him he reached out clasped his thick fingers around Baby Jonathan's tiny, fragile neck and squeezed.

"JONATHAN, NO!" Valentine reacted quickly, peeling the toddler's fingers off of his brother. "We do not put our hands around the baby's neck. That isn't safe, Jonathan, you know that. You could have killed him."

22-month-old Jonathan understood clearly, but he didn't care. He just laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 Turbulence**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone! Disclaimer: I don't own _The Mortal Instruments_, duh!**

Jonathan Christopher Morganstern stubbornly sat in his crib, arms crossed. He'd pooped his pants a good while ago, but as usual he didn't dare cry out. Such a display of weakness had never been in his nature, and especially now, with the baby, a whiny, smelly, wimpy excuse for a child in young Jonathan's eyes, he wasn't about to start now. This behavior often led to him having to wait hours to be fed and him ending up with a terrible rash where the sun don't shine, yet he stayed quiet.

This of course, never happened to the baby. All the child had to do was screech like a wild animal and everyone would come running. They'd sing to him, rock him, play with him with _his _toys. But Jonathan? Nope, nada. They scarcely touched him, didn't hardly talk to him. They spent all their time with the stupid boy who had taken everything from him, even his own name.

And Jonathan, the original Jonathan, who was here first, was angry.

The door creaked open, slowly allowing a crack of light to leak in from the hallway and Valentine tip-toed in to check on his son.

"Hey, there," he mumbled as he fumbled for the light switch. Soon he found what he was looking for, and the nursery flooded with light, revealing his father's tired face. He didn't seem to notice the child's anger as he lifted him up and carried him to the changing table, wrinkling up his nose at the smell.

Jonathan stayed perfectly still as he was changed. He refused to wince at the cold air on his exposed bottom, ignored the even colder baby wipe cleaning the feces off of his tiny baby butt. He didn't smile or clap his hands when it was over. He didn't wrapped his arms around his father's neck as he was picked up and deposited back into his bed.

"Sweet dreams," Valentine whispered as he turned the light back off, leaving his son in complete darkness.

All Jonathan could think was that he hated the baby.

_Just wait, _He thought to himself. _Just wait, after all, this is my home._

_And you are not welcome._

**Ahh, don't you just love creepy children?**


End file.
